Hushedy Hush Nick
by Emilamoo
Summary: The 12th participates in an old Christmas tradition. Some have the perfect gift idea; others have a bit of a harder time. Secret Santa gift for nikkicaskettlover.


**Written for BensonNYPD's **_**Castle **_**Secret Santa Exchange 2011. And, for the record, I had a really fun time writing this, although it took a lot longer than I originally presumed. My favorite parts to conjure up were Castle and Esposito's parts (parts I and V).**

**Dedicated to: nikkicaskettlover. I hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful Christmas (or Hanukah or Kwanza or whatever you celebrate)!**

**Disclaimer: The only way I'd own **_**Castle **_**or anything affiliated with it (minus a homemade bracelet with its logo on it my friend gave me for my birthday and the 2012 calendar they released) is if Andrew Marlowe gave the rights to me as a Secret Santa present. Seeing as that hasn't happened…**

* * *

><p><strong>Hushedy-Hush Nick<strong>

**Part I: Castle**

Rick Castle hesitates in front of the empty coffee tin. What is inside could change life as he knows it. A single slip of paper will decide fate for both him and someone else. What follows will cause him to use great, meticulous thought, planning, and care. What follows is not just a quick grab-and-go, something you'd give to your cousin's wife; no, it's much, much more than that. This shows how well you work under pressure and can produce something thoughtful under precise guidelines. To just blow this off would be like-

"Ahem."

Someone coughs from behind him. He snaps out of his intense train of thought and nods, holding his hand up apologetically and turning around to flash the woman a sheepish smile. "Sorry about the wait, ma'am. I spaced a bit."

His dazzling smile causes the rookie to flush a bit and quickly shake her head. Further behind in line, Beckett notices and resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Oh, no, it's perfectly fine, Mr. Castle. Take all the time you need. I didn't mean to rush you."

Sticking out the tip of his tongue as he focuses with deep concentration, he slips his hand into the jar and sifts around. His fingers grasp a narrow piece of paper, then moves away as the grasps a different one, and then another different one. And another. Then one after that. He closes his eyes, honing in on the feel of each one, trying to imagine whose name is written in the black ink. He hopes that perhaps one of the slips will feel different, alerting him that the name "Kate Beckett" is on it. His heart races as he believes he's found it, _knows _that this is the tag that holds her name, and he bites his bottom lip gently, nearly quivering with anticipation-

"_Castle,_" Beckett groans from her spot. He curses as the paper drops from his fingers, and he turns around with an innocent, quizzical expression. She gives him The Look, the one that says 'You know what the hell you're doing so don't even bother giving me that.' "Some of us would like to get ours today, thanks."

Castle's eyes widen with what seems to be genuine shock, as his mouth forms into a little "o." "Beckett, you don't understand. You can't rush this process. What lies in this seemingly boring, dull can holds the fate of someone in this office's gift. To try and hurry this along is like taking a-"

She doesn't even give him the time of day, cutting him off mid-dramatic-elaboration. "Just _pick _a damn _name _already," she all but growls.

"But Beckettttt," he whines, "the Secret Santa gift is not something you just _do, _it's-"

The glare she shoots at him stops his words dead in their tracks, and when he notices the other irritated looks of the other NYPD members in line, he quickly shoves his hand in and takes the first slip he feels, praying that it's the one he'd dropped.

As the line quickly progresses, Castle closes his eyes, chanting Beckett's name over and over in his head before he finally unfolds the paper and opens one eye, looking at it.

_Javier Esposito- Homicide Department_

A slight frown appeared on his features, as he couldn't help but feel a slight sinking feeling as he deflated with disappointment. He'd been sure it was Beckett's. Damn.

Facing back to the line, he notices Beckett's curious eyebrow raise. He smiles and shakes it off, then notices Lanie get a big grin as she reads the name she just picked. Castle's eyes narrow as he realizes whose name Lanie most likely had drawn.

Beckett.

He makes a beeline towards the elevator, slipping in just as the doors are closing. Lanie glances at him with a look that combines something along the lines of inquisition and suspicion. He flashes her his charming, puppy-dog grin.

Her greeting is wary, almost a question in itself. "Castle…?"

"Good morning, Lanie," he answers, his grin broadening. "How are you today? Might I add that your scrubs are even cuter today? They really make your eyes pop-"

Her sigh stops him short. "Okay, what do you want?"

He feigns a look of confusion. "What on earth do you mean? Can't I just compliment my favorite medical examiner?"

She glowers. "Richard Castle, how damn _stupid _do you think I am?"

He drops the act completely, knowing he's defeated. "Okay, so I want something from you. Just think of it as an itty bitty favor, a-"

The sharpness in her voice makes him jolt slightly as she snaps. "Castle, just tell me what the hell you want before I lose my patience."

"Okay, okay." He holds his hands up, as if surrendering, before hitting the stop button to give them a bit of time. She glances at him, eyebrow raised. "I want to know who you drew for Secret Santa."

Her eyes widen slightly. "You're joking, right?" When he just looks at her with that clueless expression, she lets out a little snort of disbelief. "I can't tell you that, and you know that. It'd completely ruin the whole point of _Secret _Santa."

"Yes, but it doesn't matter unless you drew my name."

She doesn't even bother telling him that it does. "I'm not telling you," she informs him with steely stubbornness.

He tries a different tactic. "It's Beckett, isn't it? You drew Beckett's name."

Lanie avoids his eyes, shaking her head. "Nope, sorry."

"Lanie Parish, don't you dare lie to me. I know you drew her name."

She glances at him. "Well, why do you care if I did- which I'm not saying I did-?"

He glances away. "I… I just wanna know."

A mischievous grin spreads across her features as the tables are turned. "No, you don't 'just wanna know.' Nothing involving Beckett is pure curiosity. You want to know if I got her so we can trade names because you want to be her Secret Santa."

He looks at her to find her watching him with a smug, satisfied beam on her face, knowing she's aware of exactly what he's doing, and he sighs. "Fine, that's what I want. I mean, I already have a _perfect _idea of what to get her."

Her brown eyes study him. "You _are _aware of the $25 limit, aren't you?"

His head bobbles up and down as he nods. "Yup."

She sighs at his persistence; she knows he won't give up. "Whose name did you draw?"

He cringes; he hadn't thought about that. He's bound to be the last person she'd ever want to shop for. "Yeah, about that… I drew Esposito's name…"

The sight of her eyes widening and her taking a step back makes his heart sink a little. "Oh, _hell _no. Uh-uh, not gonna happen. I don't care how much you love Beckett; I'm _not _shopping for-"

"_Pleeeeease, _Lanie? I'm _begging _you. I know exactly what to get her, and I want to make her Christmas extra special." He almost added, "She means the world to me, and I need to show her that," but held back. He couldn't believe he actually was groveling. But here he is, cupping his hands together in front of his face and looking at her with those big, puppy dog eyes.

Damn him.

"Fine. I'll trade with you, but _only because _I know how much you care for her." He opens his mouth to begin to thank her over and over, cling to her leg like a child, but she holds her hands up and shoots him an icy glare. "Ah ah, no, don't thank me. You owe me big time. And I'm not talking about 'give me a bear claw every morning for the rest of the month,' owe, I'm talking about 'drive the getaway car,' owe."

He nods vigorously, and she almost wants to smack him because it seems like he's blowing her off as he presses the stop button again so their trip resumes. "Understood one hundred percent."

A long sigh draws out of her as she shakes her head. "Kate better be damn appreciative of this, and of you. I really hope she's worth it."

His response comes immediately, without thought. "She is."

"I'm sure." The doors ping as they open, and she flashes a smile at the writer before rushing off. "Have fun, Castle."

* * *

><p><strong>Part II: Ryan<strong>

The heat is on full blast in Kevin Ryan's car as his fingers tap on the steering wheel. The sun shines brightly outside, meaning there are no clouds to keep the heat condensed, so the air feels extra crisp and sharp. He had drawn Lanie's name. Although he was fond of Lanie and considered her a pretty good friend, he didn't feel as though he really _knew _her enough to give her a meaningful gift.

For instance, he had no idea which artist she enjoyed best music-wise, or if she had a favorite band. Besides, CDs as Christmas gifts were tacky, right?

And it's not like he could just go out and get a gift card to a fancy restaurant. It'd be as bad as giving her a giant box of chocolates. Women were touchy on the subject of food, and the last thing he wanted to do was offend her. She worked in the _morgue; _she had connections, ways to make bodies disappear…

Ryan begins to drive as he continues to think. His eyes dart around anxiously as he looks for something- _anything- _that might possibly spark an idea. Various shops flutter by, yet nothing catches his attention. His gaze flutters over a video rental station, a smile appeared on his features- until he realized he had no clue what genre of film Lanie was interested in.

It's about ten minutes later when his car comes to a stop. He blinks, shaking his head and tearing himself from his thoughts, and he looks outside the window to find himself in front of Beckett's apartment. A genuine grin spreads across his features.

Light bulb.

Before exiting his nice, warm car, Ryan tightens the red and white striped, hand-knit sweater Jenny gave him, pulls down the matching mittens snug around his hands, and buttons up his coat. He bolts up the stairs, determined not to let the biting air nip at him. The heating must be broken in her building, because it feels just as cold inside as it does out.

His feet stop as he comes to a pause in front of the elevator. Maybe he should take the stairs… you know, just so the elevator doesn't freeze halfway up and he dies a slow, painful, frostbitten death. Yet again, he could slip on ice on the stairs and crack his head open… He sneaks a glance at the staircase, and a sigh of relief passes his lips. Never mind, they're carpeted. Stairs it is.

Ryan bites his lip inside his scarf as he raps his knuckles on her door once. He hears some type of ruckus going on inside, and when no one comes after a bit, he knocks again. The shrill scream of what sounds like a tea pot going off sounds, drowning the noise of his knock out, and he sighs as he waits for it to cease before knocking once again. And again. And yet again. Finally, he hears a little crash and Beckett's loud curse before the door swings, revealing a very frazzled cop.

"Hey, Ryan," she greets him, smiling sheepishly and chest heaving slightly as she pants lightly, no doubt a little winded from dashing around hurriedly. "Sorry, I didn't hear you at first."

He takes in her sloppy ponytail, messy, loose bangs, and bright red turtleneck with an askew hemline. "No problem… am I… interrupting something?"

Her eyes narrow at him as she realizes what he's implying. "No, Castle isn't even here, thank you very much."

A smirk graces his features. "And you automatically assume that I'm suggesting that you're fooling around with Castle?"

She avoids his questions and responds with a jab of her own, eyebrow raised. "Nice mittens. You make those yourself?"

His chin rises in the air slightly, chest puffing out defensively. "No, Jenny did, actually. And thank you for noticing. Now, are you going to let me in, or do I just get to stand here and freeze my ass off?"

She takes a step back, opening the door wider and brushing back a couple loose strands of hair. "Oh, right. Sorry. Yeah, come in… although I'm sorely tempted to let your ass freeze."

"Jenny might not be too fond of you if you do that…"

She almost rolls her eyes but resists the urge. "Oh, that's right, she still needs something to whip, doesn't she?" She'd meant it as a joke, but when he frowns slightly and says nothing, she's quick to apologize. "Sorry, I didn't mean it that way."

He shrugs her off. "Yeah, I know." Desperate for a topic change, he peers over her shoulder and at her kitchen, seeing a wide array of small, various colored bottles, a bowl, and a pot of water. "Whatcha up to?"

Beckett buries her head in her fridge, rummaging around before she pops back out with a bottle of beer. "I'm making my Secret Santa gift. Beer?"

He shakes his head, declining politely. "Nah, thanks."

She half-shrugs. "Suit yourself." With a skilled flick of her thumb, the cap comes flinging off, and she takes a quick swig.

"Oh, you're making your gift, huh? Whom did you draw?"

When he cranes his neck to look for her slip, she quickly pushes him away, shutting off her stove top before maneuvering him into her living room and wagging her index finger. "Ah, ah, ah. You know it's a secret. It'd defeat the entire purpose if I told you." She sits down on the couch, looking up at him with a small smile. "So what's up, Ryan?"

The blue-eyed cop drapes his scarf and coat over a chair and tosses his mittens on the seat before sitting down opposite her. "I, uh, I actually came here seeking some advice."

She tilts her head. "Oh? What can I help you with?"

Ryan twiddles his thumbs in his lap. "You're Lanie's best friend, right?"

Her brows furrow with faint suspicion. "Yeah, why?"

His eyes meet hers. "Okay, I know I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I'm dying here. I drew her name for Secret Santa, and I've no idea what to get her. You're her friend. I was just hoping you could tell me what she's into. You know, favorite genre of music, movies? Or do you have any ideas of what she'd like?"

Beckett sighs as she sits back in the couch, back sinking into the cushions. "Aw, c'mon, man. Guessing what they'd like is half of the fun."

He looks at her, pleading. "Please, Beckett? I don't know what she'd like. I mean, she wouldn't want a CD, would she?" When she gave him the, 'You're kidding, right?' look, he quickly shook his head. "Thought not. And, she's not really into food…" She glared sharply at him, causing him to wipe his hand in front of him. "Right, food off the table. What about a gift certificate for movie showings?"

His friend shakes her head, immediately dismissing his question. "No, Lanie's not into movies. She much prefers books." When he perks up a bit, she sighs. "Okay, yes, if I chose Lanie's name, I'd get her a good book and something nice, like a bottle of scotch."

His eyes widen slightly, hope flooding him. "Oh, brilliant idea! Do you happen to know what her favorite genre is at all or anything?"

She glances away, silently debating revealing her best friend's secret. "Okay, I'll tell you, but if you even breath a syllable of a word to her that I told you this, you are dead. Lanie is a big fan of romance novels."

A chortled snort escapes him. "What? Lanie likes _romances_?"

"Don't judge her, okay?"

"I'm not, I just…" He purses his lips together, struggling to hold back his laughter. "I wouldn't have guessed. Is she into the trashy paperback types, the ones with people making out on the covers, or…?"

She shoots him a look so venomous that if looks could kill, he'd be a pile of burnt ashes on the ground. "Yes, Lanie is into cheap paperback romances. What the heck do you think?"

He sits up slightly, a bit taken back by how her voice oozes such strong sarcasm. "Um… no?"

She doesn't bother even trying to hold back her eye roll. "_No, _those aren't the types she's into. She's more into the heart-achingly 'if only' stories."

Ryan's eyebrow rises so high, it nearly touches his hairline. '"Heart-aching?' Beckett, why do I have the sudden suspicion that you have had some experience with such books yourself?"

He didn't think it was possible for her to narrow her eyes any more, he's quickly proven wrong. "You got a problem with that, Ryan? If you have something to say, perhaps you should say it instead of beating around the bush."

"I just find it ever more difficult to believe that _you _enjoy romances."

A small twinkle in her eyes begins to shine, signaling that she isn't actually upset with him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He's quick to brush her off. "Nothing. So, do you know who her favorite author is?"

She decides to let the former subject drop; it _is _the holidays, after all. "No, but I have a good idea of whom she'd be into. Nicholas Sparks is a fantastic 'if-only' writer."

"Oh, didn't he write _The Notebook?_"

Her brow immediately shoots up as she grins. "Oh, so _now _who's the romance novel know-it-all? Is there something you wanna tell me?"

"Yeah, oh-kay… anyways, yes, he is the one who wrote it. My personal favorites are _Message in a Bottle _and _The Lucky One, _but I'm sure she'd be a fan of anything he's written."

He nods thoughtfully, eager to rush out and get her present. "Right, thanks for the idea! I'm really grateful." He rises to his feet. "Well, I should probably leave you to making your present. Good luck."

She sighs, nodding and getting up as well. "Don't remind me," she half groans, half laughs. "I'll see you at the party Saturday."

Once again, he wraps himself up in his festive gifts and smiles before heading towards the door. Opening it, he pauses in the doorframe. "Hey, Beckett?"

She looks up from using an eyedropper to measure some things. "Yeah?"

"Thank you, again."

She smiles a small but warm, genuine smile. "No problem."

The door closes behind him. Off to Barnes and Noble.

* * *

><p><strong>Part III: Beckett<strong>

Kate Beckett curses inwardly at the name on her slip, almost audibly groaning. _Gates. _Good brief, could she have possibly gotten a worse name? She was no doubt the hardest person to possibly have to shop for. She knew absolutely _nothing _about her boss- nada, zip, zilch. It's obvious that little to nothing frightens Beckett, but the idea of having her boss hate or be offended by a gift that she gave absolutely scares the bajeezus out of her.

Most women would be ecstatic with something like a new purse, a pair of earrings, or a new pair of stilettos. However, Gates was not your average woman. Oh no, definitely not. She asked everyone to call her _Sir. _Somehow, Beckett was afraid that a gift card to Victoria's Secret or something would be extremely offending- not to mention incredibly inappropriate. No, she'd have to think long and hard to think of an ideal gift.

On her way home, Beckett stops by Starbucks to grab a quick coffee and low-fat scone. She sighs as she's sadly reminded how the heating was out of order at her apartment and trudges up the stairs, deep in thought. Once inside, she throws her keys on the counter, takes off her jacket, and sits on the pillow on the large windowsill, allowing the sun to warm her from the outside inward. She sips, pondering, then frowns and sets aside the cup when she realizes that they'd gotten her order wrong.

Her eyes catch and lock on a picture frame of her mother and her in front of the Christmas tree from the last Christmas they celebrated before her death. And suddenly, an idea hits her. She remembers how Johanna's favorite gift was a bottle of special perfume Jim had made her. She'd never used more than a single spray year, for she never wanted it to run out.

Since most perfumes in New York were at least $50, Beckett figured that she too could make a bottle of her own. She could customize the scents so that the gift wouldn't be too feminine, as she had plenty of various oils since she was big on taking soothing oil baths. Not to mention, she also had a spare bottle of bath salts she could throw in as a double-package gift.

A huge grin spreads on her features. It was the perfect idea. Invigorated with the excitement of actually having an plan, she quickly jogs over to her Mac to Google different recipes. After a bit of rummaging around, she finds a recipe for a "Crisp and Clean" smelling perfume, meant to represent and smell similarly to "Pure DKNY Verbena." Scrolling down, Beckett muses over the description and directions, murmuring aloud to herself.

"A citrusy, lemon scent with a green hint of basil. 48 drops of grapefruit oil, 32 drops of lemon oil, 4 drops of ylang-ylang oil, 12 drops of sandalwood oil, and half an ounce of jojoba oil. Combine all together, pour into a bottle, and then dab on pulse points." She pauses briefly, contemplating. "Seems simple enough. And I think I have enough to make twice this amount…"

Sighing at her lack of caffeine, she shuffles into the kitchen to see if she has anything to drink first. Although she has some coffee grinds, she realizes with a sinking notion that all her coffee filters are broken. It's been forever since she's been able to spend much time at her place, anyway. Her eyes catch on a box of tea bags, and she lifts the lid to find one package left. Tea it is.

She sets the tea pot full of water on the boiler, gets on her knees, and begins to rummage around in her lower cabinets. Since she hadn't had much free time lately, she'd stored the oils way back. Various pots and pans find their way to the tile floor she kneels on as she clears the mess. A pasta strainer and a few jars join the pots, adding to the growing mess. Finally, her fingers brush the cool glass of a bottle. She stretches her hand out as far as it will go, and her fingers wrap around a bottle's narrow neck. She pulls it out and sets it on the counter.

Five minutes later, she's managed to pull out all the oils she needs. She heads to the bathroom to grab the eyedropper and sifting through her medicine cabinet when the steam shoots out of the tea pot with an ear-piercing cry. Taking the eyedropper with her, she sprints back to the kitchen to lift the boiling water off the red-hot plate before she hears a brash banging on the door. Muttering under her breath, she leans over to place pot down on a different, unused burner before she hears the knocking again. Growling, she steps away, knocking into a couple of the pots that are still there and watching them crash.

"Shit!"

When the knocking persists, she finally rushes to the door, flinging it open. It's Ryan. Despite her lack of time, she doesn't want to turn him down, and he clearly came for a reason. She allows him inside and offers the advice he seeks before he leaves a little while later.

After pouring a cup of tea and gathering her tools, Beckett finally plops onto the window sill once again. She takes a quick swig before lining her small glasses of oil in a row before her and cradling a medium-sized bowl in her lap. Her eyes focus in on and study her notes on the recipe before she takes her eyedropper, inserts it into the grape fruit oil basin, and sucks up a full amount before counting out loud drop by drop as she squeezes it into her bowl.

Once all the oils are in together, she eyeballs about half an ounce of the jojoba oil and throws it in before clasping the rim of the bowl and swirling it around, blending it all together. A small smile graces her lips as she tests out the finished product by putting some on her inner wrist. It actually smells quite good, and she nods, pleased before pouring the new concoction into a transparent, magenta colored glass bottle.

She finds a dark, hunter green ribbon buried deep in the recess of her closet in a craft box and ties it around the elongated neck of the glass before placing an old champagne cork in the top. It doesn't take long for her to find the extra container of vanilla lavender bath salts, and she places it alongside the perfume in a gift bag filled with red tissue paper. She slaps on a quick, black stick-on bow on the front, scribbles Gates' name on the front, and steps back to admire her work, nodding with approval and a small, triumphant smile on her face.

And that's how it's done.

* * *

><p><strong>Part IV: Lanie<strong>

The snow falls in big, thick flakes as Lanie Parish fumes from the parking lot to Macy's. Her tugs her stylish gray jacket around her tighter and buries her nose in her fuzzy turquoise scarf, all the while muttering to herself angrily.

"Oh how much you owe me, Richard Castle. You owe me so, so much. Making me shop for my freaking ex. What the hell were you thinking, Lanie? You should've just put your foot down and said _no. _But noooo, you had to be a hopeless romantic and let Castle have Beckett, just so he could impress her and make her 'holidays merry.' Screw that. If he really wanted to give her his damn gift, he would not have needed Secret Santa as an excuse and just would've _given _it to her." She sighs, shaking her head. "Oh well… they _are _damn cute together…"

The lights in the store are bright, and she squints her eyes slightly as she first enters, wiping her feet on the red carpet mat that's already covered in grey slush. She pauses by the couple of highschoolers ringing bells for the Salvation Army and digs around in her purse before slipping a five into the little slot.

"Thank you!" one says with a warm, grateful smile.

Lanie nods, a small smile spreading across her face. "Of course. Good for you guys, doing this. Not a lot of people would donate their own time. It's much appreciated."

The other one, an older one, nods with a dazzling, white smile and brushes back his slightly spiky, slightly shaggy light blonde hair. "No problem. We just thought a couple hours of our time were a small sacrifice to give back to the community."

Beside him, his friend nods, pushing her stylish glasses up her nose a bit and smiling, catching a brief glance from the boy's sapphire blue eyes. "Exactly." She looks at Lanie. "It's not much, but it's something."

"Well no matter how big or small, it's still appreciated." The M.E. smiles and nods at the two. "I'll let you both get back to it."

"Thank you. Have a Merry Christmas!" they chant in unison, before looking at each other and chuckling softly.

Lanie laughs a little, grabbing a basket to put her things in. "Merry Christmas to you too."

She sighs as she walks forward, instantly being reminded of her purpose at the department store. She glances around before heading towards to the escalators. There was nothing of use at the first floor; it just consisted of clothes and various colognes and perfumes. No way was she going to purchase Esposito anything remotely similar to anything on the first floor; it was way too girlfriend-y.

However, having once dated the person you had to shop for had its perks. Lanie knew a lot about Esposito's interests. He shouldn't be _too _difficult to shop for. For instance, he was into artists like Enrique Iglesias; his favorite genre of movies was comedic actions; and his favorite video game was _Modern Warfare. _There was just one problem: Lanie wasn't really the 'give-a-CD-or-movie-as-a-gift' kind of gal. She was into more thoughtful, sentimental gifts. Despite her current, slightly rocky relationship with Esposito, he was still a friend of hers, and she felt he deserved something more than just a quick pick-me-up.

When Lanie steps off the escalator, she immediately heads deeper into the store, brushing past the linens, Tupperware, and Christmas decor. She heads her way towards the electronic area when a sign for a sale makes her stop in her tracks. She finds a collection of little leather-bound address books. There's a black one. A small, yet sad, smile claws its way to the surface. It'd be humorous, giving him a little black book now that he's back on the market again, a way to show that she's not holding anything against him. However, she still misses him, and she's not quite sure how she feels about that particular fact…

Yet again, this is about a gift for him, not her. She grabs the book and puts it in her basket.

Once she gets into the electronic section of the store, her eyes scan the aisles. One particular knickknack catches her eyes. It's one of those music puppies, the kind where you plug your iPod, mp3, etc. into it, and it lights up and dances while your music plays through the speakers. Having been such an old item, it's on sale for $14.99. It's absolutely perfect…

…until her eyes move to the right a bit and focus in on Season 1 of _The Big Bang Theory _on sale for the same price. She curses under her breath. She knows that it's his favorite television show, although he hasn't seen much because of his hectic schedule. It's so tempting. She hates to give such a simple item as a gift, but it's almost too good to pass up.

Her mind made up, she finally reaches for what she believes to be the perfect gift.

* * *

><p><strong>Part V: Esposito<strong>

Javier Esposito was not a kind of man to be puzzled easily. Not much daunts him. He can do crosswords puzzles in less than a half an hour- and in pen. The hardest Sudoku puzzles are a breeze. He's always the one who gets called when someone uses a lifeline on _Who Wants to be a Millionaire? _or whatever. However, there's one thing that can get him so dumbfounded that he sits in front of a computer screen with Google opened up on the screen:

And that would be what to buy a rich, famous novelist for Secret Santa.

He had _everything. _What could he possibly enjoy that he didn't already have- _and _was under $25? Anything he came up with seemed petty. It's not like he knew Castle like Beckett did. He was sure there was more than meets the eye. He couldn't just buy him a movie or whatever- he had enough money that if he'd wanted that, he would've bought it by now.

This was the only reason why Esposito was actually considering using a search engine. He felt so dumb, so petty, stooping so low just to have a "good idea." Whose decision was it to decide whether ideas were good or not, anyways? It's the thought that counts, right? Any gift from a friend would be a nice gift, no matter what it was. The fact that he had even given one should be enough for Castle to be pleased.

But that's not good enough. "Nice" nowhere near Esposito's standards. Try "extravagant." Castle being "pleased" with it won't settle. No, he has to be absolutely "ecstatic" about it. He needs to receive something that absolutely blows him out of the water, something that makes him say, 'Whoa, lookit what Esposito got me! That amazing bastard has some impeccable gift-giving skills. Everybody bribe him to get you a gift; you will _not _be disappointed.'

To grant such a wish, Esposito needed help. And for now, the Internet would have to suffice as his best friend, his secret weapon.

He frowns at the screen. The Google logo shines back at him, taunting him, patronizing him, making him feel extremely dumb. "Don't give me that look," he growls snippily. "You've got billions of people behind websites to help you; hell, that's _all you are. _A bunch of other people's ideas, all collected in a little box and spit out a certain people who need certain things. So don't even bother telling me that I'm stupid, because at least _I'm _not pretending to be something I'm not."

Almost out of retaliation, the screen goes black, and the multi-colored swirls begin to float around. Esposito's eyes widen. "Oh! Oh-ho, _that's _how it's gonna be? I see. Well, you know what? It's on. I'm not going to use you. Nope, I'm not." He shakes his head, sitting back in his chair and shaking his head, arms crossed. "Nah, I have all day. I don't need you. I can think of my own ideas, thank you very much."

About ten minutes later, however, he sighs, sitting back forward. "This is ridiculous. I'm talking to a computer. A freaking _electronic. _Get over yourself, Esposito. You just need to get over your pride, admit you need help, and find some." He jiggles the mouse, then narrows his eyes as the cursor begins to flash in the search box. "I hate you," he mutters before typing in 'Christmas gifts to get rich people.'

Scrolling through the list, he begins to realize with a sinking feeling that none of this helps. A tired sigh escapes his lips before he pulls up a new tab and goes to Facebook. His plan is to search Castle's old statuses and possibly find something that will inspire him. A frown forms on his face after he's read the tenth one and has realized that those won't be much help either. At least, not with statuses like he had.

**Richard Castle **When I was little, I used to try to trap my farts in my hands and then throw them at Mother. I'd say, "Here, have a cup of cheese!"

**119,754 likes; 583 comments**

Esposito shakes his head, resting his forehead in his hand. _119,754 _likes. Who on earth would be enjoy _any _status about farting, even if it came from Richard Castle himself? 119,754 people would, apparently. Esposito was sure that he didn't have that many collective likes on all his statuses put together, and he'd been a user since not long after it first came out.

Pursing his lips in thought, he clicks out of idle curiosity to see which of his friends are online. A particular name jumps out at him, and that would be the one of Castle's daughter. He almost smacks his forehead. But of course! Why hadn't he thought of it earlier? Who better to ask than her? He clicks on her icon, and the little IM screen pops up. "Hey," he types. Her reply comes shortly after.

**Alexis Castle: **Hey yourself. How are you?

**Javier Esposito: **I'm well, thanks. Just a bit stuck. And you?

**Alexis Castle: **I'm fine, thank you. And oh? What are you stuck with?

**Javier Esposito: **Don't tell him this, but I pulled your dad's name for Secret Santa.

**Alexis Castle: **Oh, hahaha! I'm sorry.

**Javier Esposito: **Me too. ;P I was wondering if you had any ideas? I've been wracking my brain over and over but just can't think of anything.

**Alexis Castle: **Well, just for the record, he'll be happy with anything you give him; it's the thought that counts.

**Javier Esposito: **Well, yeah, I know that. But I still want to give him something he'll enjoy.

**Alexis Castle: **I suppose there is one thing he would appreciate…

**Javier Esposito: **Yeah? What is it?

**Alexis Castle: **…I don't think I'm allowed to say…

**Javier Esposito: **Aw, c'mon, Lex. It's me.

**Alexis Castle: **Fine, but you *didn't* hear this from me. Dad and I were playing laser tag a couple weeks ago, and… long story short, he fell into a bathtub full with water. The vest short-circuited, and although he's fine- thank God- his vest isn't. It's… well, it's pretty much a goner. He's been meaning to get a new one, but the store that sells them sold out and won't get in a new shipment for a couple months.

**Javier Esposito: **What store is it? Perhaps I could swing by and really see if they truly are all gone…

Alexis gives him the name of the story and directions. He thanks her continuously over and over before logging off and rushing over to the store. A tall, thin, geeky guy with black-rimmed glasses stands behind the counter, testing out a new dart gun at a target across the room.

"Hey," Esposito calls. "You sell laser vests here?"

The staff member sets down his toy and straightens up, adjusting his name tag. GREG. "Yeah, we do, but we just sold out last week. We're not getting any new shipments until about mid-January."

Esposito frowns. "Nah, that can't be right, man. Surely you got some in the back or something, right?"

Greg shakes his head, curly brown hair not moving an inch. "Nope, dude, sorry. What can I say? When we're out, we're out. And don't call me Shirley." He chortles at his own little joke.

But Javi's not in the mood; he's gotten this far and won't give up that easily. "Well, could you at least go look? Maybe you missed one."

The college-aged boy narrows his eyes slightly, poking his index finger onto the counter between them. "Listen to me, buddy. I've been back there a billion times, and I can tell you right now that we're. All. Out."

Esposito's chest puffs out as he straightens his back, rising taller than the cashier and glaring down at him. "And you listen to me, _pal. _This isn't just for my own childish wants. This is a special occasion; I need it."

All traces of politeness or vain attempts at it disappear as the boy snarls in a low, seething voice. "Listen, I don't care whether it's for your brother's wedding gift or your dying mummy's death-bed wish. We're sold out and there's nothing you can do about it,so it'd be best if you just _moved on._"

Esposito sighs, fed up with this kid's attitude. He really didn't want to have to resort to this, but it just seemed as though there was no other choice. His fingers brush against the cool metal of his badge as he holds it up. "You _sure _you don't have any left at all?"

The police officer's steely gaze and, 'Don't even try me,' look penetrates the poor worker's core, and he finally manages to squeak out a little reply. "Um, lemme check again… I think there might've actually been one left…"

Esposito smirks. Sometimes being a cop really had its perks.

* * *

><p><strong>Part VI: The Gang<strong>

It's December 23rd. Everyone had agreed that the night before Christmas Eve would be best to get together to reveal the gifts, as some would enjoy spending the actual night before Christmas with their families. It's around 9pm. Snow falls in crystal-like flurries to the ground, dusting the streets in a white sparkle.

Inside the 12th, instrumental Christmas music plays quietly from a stereo to serve as a bit of background noise. Poinsettias sit on each person's desk, a festive yet elegant decoration to spice up the room, adding to the string of colored lights that line the walls. Everyone sips on some eggnog, chatting and joking together light-heartedly as each person takes a glance at the presents under the little precinct tree, eager to open them but not wanting to seem like they were.

Finally, Gates speaks up, addressing the elephant in the room. "Okay, so, who wants to crack open the Secret Santa gifts?"

A chorus of yesses sound as the group pulls their swivel chairs up to surround the tree. Ryan takes charge, standing up and pulling the first present out. "Alright, the first present goes to… Lanie!" He tries not to show his anxiety as he hands his own present to the M.E., who takes it with a big smile.

"Thank you, Ryan." She stares at the medium-sized, tall, rectangular box wrapped in deep purple and green striped paper. "Ooh, what could it be?" She shakes it up and down, and Ryan has to restrain himself from crying out that she should just _open it already. _Finally, she begins to pick at the tape, taking her time to unwrap the gift. Clearly, she's not one who just goes at it. Finally, she pulls out a large bottle of expensive white wine and a paperback copy of _Message in a Bottle._

"Ooh!" she coos, looking around the circle with excitement. "Liquor and a good book, just what I need! Thank you, whoever this came from. I love it."

She began to read the synopsis on the back of the book before Ryan picks out the largest gift from the bunch, kicking it over towards Castle. "And this next one's for… the Big Man, Richard Castle!"

Castle's eyes widen like a puppy about to be given a bone, and he lets out a little squeal. "Yippee!" He takes no hesitation in ripping at the paper, opening the box eagerly and bending over to pull out its contents. "Oh my God… is this…? It is!" He holds up the large laser vest for everyone to see. "I got a new laser vest! There was an accident with the other one. Oh, wow…" To everyone's amused surprise, he begins to tear up. "Thank you _so much_, whoever got me this; I thought I'd never see one again…" He sniffs. "Although, I'm not giving any props for creativity. Clearly, someone's been in contact with my daughter.

A collective chuckle rings among the group. Esposito grins as Ryan reaches for the next gift, one in a bag. "This is for you, Captain."

Gates smiles as she takes it from him, nodding. "Thank you." She removes the tissue paper as the others watch with dire anticipation, all wondering the same thing: which unlucky fellow got her name, and what did they get her?

"Bath salts," she states plainly. The others are unable to decipher her emotions. "And…" She pulls out the dark pink bottle, uncorks it, and takes a small sniff. "…homemade perfume, I presume?" To everyone's shock, she bursts out into a beam, and Beckett releases a relieved breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. "It smells _lovely. _I absolutely love it. Major kudos to whoever made this. Now I can relax and unwind after a long day of work."

The next gift is for Esposito. He smiles as grabs the square box and tears off its wrapping, not barbarically like Castle had, but not tentatively like Lanie. The address book's first. He pulls it out of the box, fingering the glossy leather before opening it to find a post-it note. He reads it out loud. "I figured you needed a new little black book now that you're on the market again. ;] Merry Christmas."

Laughs erupted among the group as he pulled out the second part and held it in his palm for the whole group to see. "Aw, it's one of those music dogs! Isn't it cute?" He grins as he realizes there's yet another post-it note on the bottom. "P.S. The dog's name is Bazinga," he informs everyone. A giant grin spreads across his features as he instantly recognizes the reference from his favorite show. The main character's catch phrase was 'bazinga.' "Thank you, thank you, thank you. I can't thank whoever got me this enough. It's an _amazing _gift."

The second to last one is labeled with Ryan's name. He picks up the gift, covered in plain white and red striped paper, and smiles as he begins to tear in. "Well, what would you know? This one's for me." He takes off the lid of the cubed box and frowns when all he sees is a large Hershey chocolate bar. He pulls it out. "Uh… thank you?" When everyone begins to giggle, he narrows his eyes suspiciously. "What? Do you guys know something I don't?"

"Look under the lid," Beckett tells him.

He does so, and he grins with pleasant surprise. "Oh!" he laughs, blushing faintly at his original cluelessness. "There's more; it was hidden!" He peels off the two certificates, eyes squinting slightly as he reads the writing on one of them. "Good for one front-row seat to any Broadway musical." The second one's identical, and his eyes widen. "Whoa, _thank you_. Jenny's been itching to go to a show lately, too. This is perfect!"

After placing his gift back down, Ryan reveals the last gift. "And, last but not least, this one's for you, Beckett."

With a polite smile, New York's finest cop takes the small, rectangular package decorated with dark blue wrapping paper with sparkly white snowflakes. "Thanks." It's heavier than she expected, and her eyebrows furrow with puzzlement as she tries to guess what it could possibly be. She places the gift in her lap, undoes the silky white ribbon, and tears at the paper delicately, not making a huge mess of it but not being particularly precise about it either.

"Oh…" Her eyes widen slightly at the beautiful, hand-crafted trinket inside. She pulls out a fist-sized clay elephant to add to the collection on her desk. Its trunk is entwined with a baby elephant's trunk, and the entire figurine shines in the dim light, candlelight flickering off its smooth surface. It's intricately designed, evenly painted and meticulously decorated. There are a billion little details, like the way there's a hinting ghost of a smile on both of their faces, the shadow being cast onto them from their trunks in the air, and the tiny sparkle in the mother's eye. There's a small royal purple blanket draped over the mother as it begins to fall onto the child. Engraved in it is the word _'Always'_ in calligraphy-like cursive writing.

Beckett looks up; she immediately knows who gave it to her and doesn't even need to guess or ask. Her eyes meet Castle's as he looks at her with a gaze so full of love and warmth that it nearly melts her right on the spot. The rest of the team watch the two, small, amused smiles on their faces as they watch the sparks fly, but the two are in their own little world, unaware of anything else.

She's so amazed and honored and shocked and so undeniably _in love _with the man sitting across from her, she can barely speak. And Jesus Christ, tears of happiness are beginning to prick in her eyes and she'll be damned if she cries in front of all of her friends over something that is so seemingly small, but she can't hold them back and they roll down her cheeks. _Why are you crying? Get a hold of yourself! It's just a Secret Santa gift, _she scolds herself. _The most thoughtful, perfect gift anyone could ever me. I couldn't ask for a better one._

"Thank you," she manages to croak out, grinning idiotically.

It's only two words, but somehow, it speaks more than anything any of them have spoken that entire night. The others all watch, faint smiles on their features as they allow the two to have their moment. After a few moments, Esposito coughs, breaking the silence.

"So, who wants to go skating at Rockefeller Center? The last time I went was when I was a little boy, and I don't think there's a better time than now," he suggests.

"Ooh, good idea," Lanie agrees, surprising everyone by smiling at her ex, who returns the smile. "We could go for street-vendor hot chocolate after."

Ryan's head bobs as he nods. "I'm game if everyone else is."

Gates shrugs. "Sure, why not?"

"Sounds fun," Beckett pipes in, rising to her feet.

"You know I'm in," Castle says at the same time, and the two glance at each other before laughing a little.

As the first four head towards the elevator, Beckett stays behind, waiting for Castle as he wraps his navy blue and white striped scarf around his neck.

Her hand reaches out to touch his briefly as she looks at him earnestly. "Thank you."

His response is one that she's heard numerous times, but never ceases to feel like it's being said for the first time. "Always."

* * *

><p><strong>[Bonus] Part VII: Kate and Rick<strong>

The group trudges down to the entrance. Beckett looks around at all the children and families enjoy themselves, and she can't help but feel a rush of warmth. This is her family, and she loves each and every one of them. She's so busy in her own thoughts that she doesn't notice the others have stopped in the skate rental line until she bumps into Lanie.

"Oh, sorry!" the words automatically pop from her mouth as she smile sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it, honey," is her best friend's response as she smiles widely and catches Castle's eye as he stands behind Beckett and gets a sly twinkle in her eyes.

The smile slips off Beckett's face as she looks behind her at him. "What?" She faces Lanie again, confused as she looks between them, neither of them speaking. "What's so funny? What're you guys smiling at?" Her eyes narrow as she continues to get no answer. "Guys, this isn't funny… one of you needs to tell me what the hell's so funny before I lose my patience." When aggressiveness still leaves no results, she whines, pouting. "Oh, c'mon, guys… please?"

When she looks at Castle, he just smiles and points forward as Lanie grabs at her arm, forcing her to turn around. "Oh!" Her eyebrows rise as she realizes they're at the front of the line and the workers are awaiting her to tell them her size. But that's not why she had exclaimed. No, it was because of the sign on the counter, the one reading: '_All profits during Christmas weekend will be donated to the Johanna Beckett Criminal-Defenses Scholarship fund.' _

Her voice comes out a strangled whisper. "C-Castle… did… did you do this?"

He smiles, taking a step closer and shaking his head. "No, you did. You're the one who struck inspiration to do such a thing."

She glares at him a little, her old self rearing its head for a brief moment as her fiery attitude resumes. "Don't get all philosophical with me, mister. Did you make this happen: yes or no?"

"Okay, okay, you caught me."

Her wonder and awe overcome her once again as she looks at the sign in disbelief. "B-but… but how?"

A cheeky grin appeared on his face as he held up his phone in his gloved hand and waved it around a bit. "Connections with the mayor are a _big _benefit."

Her heart catches in her chest, air catching in her throat and making it hard to breathe. "I…" _love you._

He shakes his head, smiling. "No need to say anything. I know. Now go on and give the poor, freezing man your skate size. There are tons of people waiting for you."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, hush."

He grins.

* * *

><p>About half an hour later, Castle and Beckett pull away from the rest of the group, ignoring the knowing looks they cast in their direction. The two glide gracefully across the glistening ice in a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, before Beckett looks at her partner with a sly smile.<p>

"Wanna see something that'll blow your mind?"

His eyes light up as he nods eagerly. "You know I do."

"Okay, hold on." Beckett presses her lips together, slowing down a bit and waiting for the opportune minute before she presses forward, quickly gaining speed, and then turning backwards and lifting one leg behind her. Castle's eyes widen as he figures out what she's about to do, and his thoughts are confirmed when she digs the toe of the skate on the lifted foot into the ice, pushes up, and spins around three times in the air before landing skillfully on the other foot, arms spread out wide and hands facing the sky, a giant, beautiful smile spreading across her face as she realizes she pulled it off.

The other skaters who had been watching all applaud, some laughing, and Beckett nods to them, giggling from the rush and bowing goofily as she returns to Castle's side, pulling up sharply beside him and causing a little dusting of frost to flutter onto him. "Told ya I'd blow your mind," she gloats, grinning half-triumphantly, half-smugly.

He chuckles, coming to a stop next to her. "I never doubted you. But no, that was very impressive. When did you ever learn to skate like that? I mean, I know you skated with your mother a bit, but…?"

She smiles fondly at the memory. "I took figure skating lessons from when I was seven to when I was sixteen. Back then, when I was little, I always thought I'd grow up to become a professional ice skater and participate in the Olympics."

He tilts his head at her curiously. "Why didn't you? Why'd you stop?"

She shrugs. "It got to be too much. I couldn't balance school, friends, and constant training yet still have a life. I just… lost the passion. My life wasn't just about skating anymore, and if you want to be a pro, that's not an option."

The corners of his lips tilt downward slightly as he frowns sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head, smiling nostalgically at him and nudging him gently with her elbow. "Nah, don't be. Think about it. If I hadn't quit figure skating, I wouldn't be here, now would I?"

He nods at the thought, smiling back. "This is true. And I'm extremely glad that you're here."

She looks up at him at his words. "I do, too."

Their eyes lock as Castle reaches for something in his pocket. "I want to show you something," he informs her, not breaking their gaze.

"What is it?"

He removes a piece of paper before moving to stand right beside her, facing the same direction as she is. He points to the sky, forcing her to look away from his eyes for a bit. "You see that star? That one a couple away from the Big Dipper, the one right there?"

She follows his finger, looking in the direction and nodding as she spots an extra bright star, one where you can practically see its jagged edges. "Yeah."

He slips the paper into her hands, and she looks down, reading it. It's a form of some sort. Her eyebrows furrow when it reads 'Star Purchase' at the top, and her eyes widen as she continues to read. The paper includes the star's location, origin, and name. She can't believe the name that comes with it and figures that it must be a mistake, because it reads 'Beckett's Flame.' "Castle… please tell me that you didn't buy me a star on top of everything…"

"I didn't."

A sigh of a mixture of relief and slight disappointment escapes her lips. "Oh, thank God."

It doesn't take long for him to correct her and let her mind remain at ease. "I bought it for your mom _and _you."

"Castle!" she howls, shoving the paper back into his hands. "I can't believe you bought me a freaking _star! _It's too much, you've already given me so much tonight. I can't accept it."

He shakes his head. "No, I _wanted _to. Please don't think of it as a 'you-owe-me.' I just wanted to make your Christmas extra special and now, this?" His eyes flicker up to the sky. "Whenever you miss your mom, you can just look up at the sky and be reminded of her…" He pauses for a moment, thinking. "Well, whenever you miss her at night, that is. Anyways, it's a constant reminder that she is always with you, watching over you."

She snorts. "Jeez, Castle, cheesy much? But that's not the point. The point is I could never repay you for this."

"No, see, that's the thing: you don't _have _to. I wanted to give a bit."

She smiles at him, then leans forward and surprises him by hugging him tightly. "Thank you. Thank you so very much, Castle. Not just for tonight. For everything. For all the times you've been there for me. I could never thank you enough."

He hugs her back, just as tightly, grinning widely into his shoulder. "You're welcome. Anything for you."

Finally, she pulls back a bit, looking eyes on his. He gazes back at her, thumb moving up to stroke her cheek gently, before she leans in and brushes her lips against his cheek, her mouth warm against him, before she leans in and applies a bit more pressure. Her lips linger there a few seconds too long to be considered just friendly before she pulls back, blushing faintly.

"Merry Christmas, Rick."

"And a very merry Christmas to you, Kate."

Suddenly, her face lights up as she squeals uncharacteristically. "Ooh! I know how I can repay you."

He groans. "What did I tell you about-?"

She holds up her index finger, cutting him off. "Ah, ah! Just listen. I'm… gonna buy you… an extra, extra, jumbo large hot chocolate."

He can't hold back his wide grin. "Deal."

FIN

* * *

><p><strong>1) I would appreciate any and all thoughts! :)<strong>

**2) I purposely titled the story the way I did. A ****secret**** is intended to be kept ****hush-hush****, and another name for ****Santa**** is Saint ****Nick****.**

**3) I've never been to New York City before (going for my first time in April for a show choir competition, baby! Woot woot!), so I've no clue how skating at Rockefeller Center works. So don't hold any of those details against me, and just use all of your brilliant little imaginations and pretend that they do in fact have a skate rental. :P**

**4) I omitted the original Part VI (the entire story was initially gonna be eight parts) because I couldn't think of enough details to mush into something focusing entirely on Gates. I don't believe I know her well enough do her much justice (or any of the characters, for that matter, but…).**

**5) HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU.**


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